


This Is Not Forever

by Capriccioso



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 18:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9398180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capriccioso/pseuds/Capriccioso
Summary: Dean decides he should just kiss his half-way fallen angel because people make bucket lists for a reason.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Waiter, there’s feelings in my porn.  
> Love, C

This is not forever.

Dean’s lying awake at ass o’clock in the morning, watching a half-way fallen angel sleep in his bed and all he can think is _this is not forever_.

Cas had shown up dead on his feet yesterday, said he needed a short rest. Of course they only had two beds. And if maybe Dean lost this particular rock-paper-scissors with Sam on purpose, well, who would know? Cas would, after he was done here.

Because the fact remains, this is not forever, and they’re probably all going to die, and there’s a reason people make bucket lists dammnit.

Dean trails his gaze over Cas’ sleeping form slowly, makes sure to memorise the rise and fall of his chest and the graceful sweep of his collarbone peeking out of the too-big shirt Dean made him wear ‘because you will not sleep in a suit, dude’. He swallows.

Cas would forgive him. That’s a constant with them, they’re both fucking up all of the time, but they always forgive each other. This is a minor fuck-up in the grand scheme of things, and this isn’t going to be forever. Cas will be gone in the morning, will be gone forever some day.

Dean stares at Cas’ throat for longer than necessary. He would like to trail kisses along it, but that’s going too far. Dean throws a glance at Sam’s bed, but it’s empty. Damn, he hoped that the presence of a sasquatch may keep Cas from smiting him on the spot until that stage of forgiveness could be reached.

Finally, finally, he leans forward, cups a hand around Cas’ warm jaw, feels the stubble scratch along his palm. He swallows harder than he meant to, then leans forward to press a soft, chaste kiss to those perpetually chapped lips.

This close he can smell ozone and rainstorm clearly. Dean’s mistake is to hold it too long, but he can’t help himself. The lips pressed against his are soft and warm and they belong to _Cas_ , and he will never have this ever again, it’s impossible to let go.

Suddenly, Cas lurches forward and a breathless gasp escapes Dean. Cas uses it to press his tongue in Dean’s mouth, licking in possessively, and he flips them and presses Dean into the mattress.

One of Cas’ hands curls bruisingly into his hip, the other burrows under his shirt, stroking the planes of his chest, and it’s way too much. Dean’s drowning in sensations; Cas nips his lower lip and he can’t hold back the moan.

Cas freezes above him. Dean opens his eyes and meets brilliant blue, _frightened_ eyes.

Cas draws back, gets backwards out of bed so quickly he almost stumbles. “I ... Dean, I ...,” he begins, but words seem to fail him for once and he swallows convulsively.

Dean’s staring at Cas’ bruised, spit-slick lips like hypnotized.

Slowly he gets up, and because every brain cell that hasn’t left the building yet insists he do, Dean steps closer until he is way up in Cas’ personal space.

Cas’ breathing is hitched and his lust-dark gaze darts between Dean’s mouth and eyes.

He looks perfect like this, Dean decides, and lunges forward to claim those lips again.

Cas moans low in his throat and yeah, this is definitely even better when Dean’s not too shell-shocked to kiss back. Cas’ fingers knot in his hair and Dean gently pushes him back until they fall backward onto Sam’s empty bed.

“What are you ...?” Cas begins to ask but interrupts himself with a gasp when Dean kisses his throat, the side of his neck, like he’d thought about earlier.

He takes care to leave marks, because this is not forever, this is a one-time thing, and when this night’s over Cas will flutter off and Dean will be left with the self-loathing and loneliness and longing that are his due as the idiot who falls in love with a comet. Cas will probably have healed these by morning, but for right now he can claim the angel with his teeth and tongue and bruising fingers. Just for a little bit, because this is not forever.

When Cas’ hips buck reflexively and rub his erection along Dean’s hip, he has a wonderful idea. Dean pulls back, claims Cas’ lips because they’re _right there_ , then backs off again to pull off Cas’ shirt. His eyes rove over flawless tan skin; he's so damn beautiful. Dean groans low in his throat and sucks one of Cas’ perfect dusty pink nipples into his mouth.

“D-Dean, why are you ...,” clearly he’s doing it wrong if Cas is still so coherent. Dean flicks his tongue against the erect nipple one more time before devoting himself to the other one. One of his hands follows the cut of Cas’ sharp hipbones down to cup his erection through the flimsy cotton of his boxers.

Cas gasps and bucks into his hand, pre-come darkening the fabric. Dean kisses down Cas’ stomach, keeps his eyes on Cas’ face to see the exact moment the angel understands where this is going. He isn’t disappointed; Cas’ lust-blown eyes widen a fraction and he moans helplessly.

Dean grins up at him wolfishly from where his chin rests just above the waistband of the boxers and he can see that Cas strains not to move his hips.

Slowly Dean slides his fingers into the waistband and pulls them lower, inch by inch. Cas frowns at his teasing and Dean plants a quick kiss to his hipbone to let Cas feel the smile on his lips he can’t quite shake.

Dean starts by tonguing the tip of Cas’ hard, leaking dick, but honestly it’s a little intimidating. He’s never done this before, but he wants this with Cas so badly. Carefully he licks a stripe along the underside, just to get a feel for how big it’ll feel. Cas bucks his hips then, and even if Dean hasn’t done this he’s received plenty of blowjobs to know that’s a recipe for disaster. So he rests his hands on Cas’ hips to hold them still. He can’t help caressing Cas’ skin while he’s there.

Then Dean sucks Cas’ dick into his mouth and one of his hands closes around the base to hold it automatically, and he really hopes Cas got the memo about the hips.

“D-Dean! Oh!”

Cas makes the most delicious sounds as Dean bobs his head, swallowing his dick down as low as it will go. Cas is babbling, and it’s not even English anymore, and Dean figures that’s worth the ache in his jaw.

Really this whole blowjob venture was just so he’d have the memory of Cas warm and pliant underneath him gasping his name, but Dean’s dick takes great interest in Cas’ lean, masculine frame, his deep growls and the feeling of Cas’ cock, hot and musky and tasting of pre-come, on his tongue. Dean can feel his hips buck into the mattress and he’s temped to see if he can get off like this.

Cas makes a choked off noise at one of Dean’s particularly insistent licks and the hand that had somehow found it’s way into Dean’s hair without Dean noticing tries to pull him off.

Dean’s stubborn though, and really intent on getting the whole experience here, so he refuses to be moved until Cas comes down his throat with a moan that will feature in Dean’s spank bank forever.

He tries to swallow it all but some of the come dribbles down his chin and imagining how he must look with Cas’ come on his face makes him moan wantonly.

Dean licks at Cas’ cock until he’s over-sensitized because he will miss this, then he lazily kisses his way up Cas’ body.

Cas seizes him when he gets to his chest, pulls him up the last bit and claims his mouth, his tongue chasing the taste of himself. Dean moans then and his hips buck helplessly against Cas’.

“Dean,” Cas breathes into his mouth, voice pure sex, and Dean comes in his damn boxers like a teenager.

The next morning comes too early. For one thing, it comes in two hours and they’re woken up by the sound of Sam swearing and slamming the door shut behind him as he flees the room.

Dean blinks. Cas is pillowed on his chest, their legs intertwined, and for some ridiculously girly reason they’re holding hands. He feels Cas stiffen and closes his eyes again, waits for the angel to get up and say ‘that was a mistake’ or maybe ‘that was nice well gotta go’.

Cas extricates himself and Dean feels oddly bereft. _Don’t act like you didn’t know this was a one-time thing_ , he reprimands himself. He can hear Cas collecting his clothes from the floor, the swish of fabric unnaturally loud in the quiet motel room.

“That was a mistake,” Cas says, low and still fucked-out from moaning Dean’s name just hours ago.

Dean grits his teeth. It hurts. It hurts so much he doesn’t even get a kick out of predicting the exact words Cas would use. He knew but it still hurts and where’s the fairness in that? Dean presses his eyes closed harder, wills the wetness away, but instead it spills over and runs down his cheeks. Damn it. He had a dick in his mouth two hours ago and crying after sex is still the gayest thing he’s ever done.

“Why are you crying?” Cas asks; he sounds honestly confused and if that doesn’t take the damn cake.

Dean sits up, suddenly furious.

“Why am I ...? Well, imagine if I had-- well, no, actually, you wouldn’t care about that.” He huffs a bitter laugh. “So imagine if someone you did care about called what’s probably the best night of your damn life a mistake first thing in the morning!”

He doesn’t wait for Cas’ answer, just gets out of the bed and heads for the bathroom so he can lock himself in there and cry in the shower as nature intended.

He doesn’t get very far; strong arms wrap around his waist and press him into something solid and warm. It takes Dean a second to realize that this must be Cas’ arms around him, Cas’ chest behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Cas whispers in his ear and Dean fights to get out of his iron grip. Pity is the last thing he needs right now, thank you very much.

Cas speaks quickly now, an unreadable emotion in his gravel voice. “I was afraid that you were going to say it was just once, just a-a fling,” his tongue stumbles over the word he’s clearly not used to and Dean grows still in his arms, “I couldn’t bear hearing that so I- I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Haltingly Dean asks, because surely he's misunderstanding, “So you ... what, wanna keep doing this?”

“I love you.”

The surety of the declaration makes it hard to breathe. Or maybe that’s just Cas’ arms holding him even tighter.

“Whatever you will give me, I am yours.”

Dean’s shaking fingers rest on where Cas’ hands still grip him tightly. “Cas-” he chokes, then tries again, “Cas, you can’t say that, you shouldn’t ... you’re worth _everything_ , why the fuck would you settle for any less?”

He feels Cas arms growing slack around him and turns in the embrace. Cas refuses to meet his eyes, dark lashes downcast. Slowly, because surely this is a dream that’ll end if he moves too abruptly, Dean cups a hand around Cas’ jaw in a mirror of that first stolen kiss.

“I-I’m an idiot. I’m a real spectacular fuck-up, Cas.” Dean can see Cas gearing up for a protest, so he continues quickly. “My everything’s not very much. Not even close to what you’re worth, but if you’ll have it ...,” he trails off because surely he’s said enough embarrassing things for one morning already.

Cas looks at him now, and his eyes are brilliant blue and filled with so much hope and, crap, love, that Dean forgets to breathe for longer than he’d ever admit.

Dean tips forward ever so slightly, kisses Cas softly and reverently and hopefully for the first of many times. Cas’ hands tighten around his hips and suddenly Cas is speaking against Dean’s lips.

“You kissed me first,” he says with wonder. “I thought I dreamt that but-”

Dean interrupts him by deepening the kiss. They will have time for more chick flick moments later.

This is forever.

**Author's Note:**

> And they lived happily ever after give or take a few apocalypses and the GoFundMe Sam sets up to pay for his therapy because he just keeps walking in on them fucking. ("Why won't you lock the damn door, Dean!" - "Why won't you knock on the damn door, Samantha?")  
> Love, C


End file.
